


The Honeymooners

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days (2016) [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hurt Derek, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Werewolf Hunters, dirty old ladies, stiles macguyvering his way to victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8502760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: They're alone in a small town, hunters are everywhere — and looking for Derek because it's a day ending in y — and their only way to survive the night is to share a tiny bed in the honeymoon suite of the local hotel.(God I love this fandom.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyInSoulPunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyInSoulPunk/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 6: Gift for PrettyinSoulPunk.

Stiles shoved his shoulder into Derek's armpit, grabbing onto his wrist and hefting him up to damn near carry him through the darkened streets. A quick check showed Stiles that the whole burned wolfsbane trick had done its job in stopping the spreading black lines, but Derek was still mostly out of it and the wound was taking its sweet time to heal.

 

The sound of pursuit made Stiles quicken his pace, glancing behind him a little fearfully. There was no way they were going to be able to outrun the hunters, not like this, not with Derek's feet dragging along the pavement and Stiles' legs already burning with effort. But they did have one advantage: the hunters didn't know they were looking for _two_ men. So Stiles half-dragged Derek to the mouth of the nearest alleyway and shoved him against the wall. When Derek's legs gave out, Stiles let them, just helping ease Derek down to his knees until he was face-planted in Stiles' groin.

 

And then… then Stiles put on the performance of his life, moaning and groaning like the worst porn he'd ever seen, muttering, "yeah, baby" and "take it all." The hunters went right past them, but not before Stiles heard a sound of disgust from one of them. 

 

"Black Widow was totally right," Stiles muttered to himself before shifting Derek until the somewhat slimy alley wall was supporting him and then ducked out to check and see if their pursuers were still in the area. Once he was convinced it was all clear, Stiles went back and hefted Derek to his feet, rearranging their limbs until it looked like they were semi-drunk lovers -- or _very_ close friends -- stumbling back to their apartment after a night spent carousing.

 

Once they were moving again, Stiles pulled out his phone and hit Danny's speed dial. When the line picked up, Stiles didn't wait for Danny's hello, just immediately asked, "Please tell me you have an exit strategy for us."

 

There was a tiny little pause before Danny's voice came, sounding as frustrated as Stiles felt. _"The rental car companies are all closed for the night and the bus station is being watched. Your best bet is to hole up in a hotel, but there's some sort of goddamn conference in the next town that has all the hotels there booked solid… except for the honeymoon suite, which is--"_

 

"Book it," Stiles said, shifting Derek against him again. "Use Derek's card; he won't mind."

 

_"This isn't the Four Seasons, Stiles. The room isn't all that expensive, but it's locally owned and operated, which means that it actually says here in fine print that the honeymoon suite is reserved for actual honeymooners. You have to prove that you're on your honeymoon."_

 

Stiles thought fast. "Okay, so photoshop some wedding pictures -- actually, just that one photo of Derek and I at Scott and Allison's wedding should do it? Do you still have that? We could pass that off as our own wedding picture. Do they expect us to have a marriage license with us?"

 

_"No, but the lack of wedding rings might raise some eyebrows."_

 

"Okay. Send a license anyway, if for no other reason than because it'll eventually be hilarious." Stiles stopped to catch his breath and think, propping Derek against the wall again. Thankfully, he seemed to be coming around a bit, actually having helped with the walking somewhat in the last few minutes. "Derek. Derek, buddy, you with me?"

 

"Hnnnngh." Derek's eyes were rolling in his pale, sweaty face, looking like he was going to start spewing more black shit any second. Stiles took a hurried step back, relieved when Derek swayed but stayed leaning against the wall.

 

"Fuck, okay. Danny, you still there?"

 

_"I'm here, Stiles."_

 

"Great, I'm gonna need to pay with my phone, because they'll be tracking Derek's card and I think we all know the state of my credit, so… connect Lydia's Apple pay account to my phone, would you? And that marriage license needs to have _anyone else's name on it._ The hunters will be looking for Hale; it won't be long before they're searching all the hotels in town." Stiles bit his lip, judging the distance to the gas station he could see from where they were standing. He didn't want to leave Derek long enough to go over there, but they needed rings, or at least ring-shaped-objects, and there was no way he was finding anything on the street.

 

"Okay, Danny, I need you to stay on the line with this phone. I'm leaving it with Derek, but I'm going to plant it on him while I go find something to use as wedding rings. Wait, fuck. Goddammit, I need the phone to pay for--"

 

" _I just increased your credit line on your Discover. You're welcome,"_ Danny said, sounding as frustrated as Stiles felt.

 

"You couldn't just pay it off for me?" Stiles muttered, but then added before Danny could start lecturing him, "I'll be back in under ten minutes. The phone's GPS is on. If they take Derek…"

 

_"I'll find him."_

 

Stiles nodded, even knowing Danny couldn't see him, and tucked the phone into Derek's underwear, not willing to lose another phone to a quick hunter pat-down. Then, with one last long look at Derek, he darted across the street and into the gas station, moving rapidly through the few shelves until he saw some mechanical parts. The bolts and washers were much too small to use, though they would have been perfect, but Stiles narrowed his eyes at a length of wire before plucking it up and dashing toward the counter.

 

The attendant didn't even look at Stiles, just rang him up and grunted when the transaction went through. Stiles grabbed the wires and flat out ran back to where Derek was still, miraculously, holding up the alley wall. 

 

Using his teeth, Stiles stripped the wires and twisted them together before winding one set around Derek's ring finger and the other around his own. In the dim street lighting they looked… like twisted up wires, but whatever. They'd pass.

 

Digging for the phone made Derek squawk a little, which was a very good sign.

 

"Yeah, yeah, don't kill me," Stiles said, pulling the phone free and wiping the screen on his pants leg before putting it to his face. "Danny?"

 

_"Still here. That didn't take long. Did you find something?"_

 

Stiles resumed his position at Derek's side, though Derek was mostly on the road to recovery. "It'll do the job. I need directions to the hotel."

 

_"Go north on this street for three blocks and turn left on Maple. The hotel is five blocks down on the corner of Maple and Broad."_

 

"Thanks, dude. I owe you. Again."

 

 _"Do you want me to stay on the line? Or I could just track the signal."_ There came the muted clacking of keys down the line, which made Stiles relax the tiniest amount. Danny totally had their backs; Stiles wasn't alone out here with a wounded werewolf, even if it looked like he was to any interested parties.

 

"Just track us for now. I need to practice making lovey dovey with my boo here and you'll just be a third wheel."

 

_"I absolutely have that recorded for future posterity."_

 

Stiles couldn't help cracking a grin at that, even with his anxiety running at about a twelve on a scale of one to ten. "I don't know why I ever thought you were a nice guy."

 

 _"Oh, look at that, your credit just took a nosedive. What a pity,"_ Danny said with a laugh just before the phone clicked dead on Stiles' end.

 

\--

 

"Hey there, Dolores," Stiles said, snuggling up under Derek's arm as Derek attempted to smile at the blue-haired old lady behind the front desk. "My new husband and I just rented the honeymoon suite on Booking.com. Did you get our--"

 

The old lady smiled at him, her eyes somewhere a little to his left before she pulled the thick glasses off the top of her head and straightened up her gaze. "Oh! Mr. Stilinski! I just got the fax with your paperwork. You're all in order. And what a handsome couple the two of you… make." Her lips went a little pruney as she twisted them up in disapproval. Stiles braced himself for some homophobic comments only to sigh with relief when Dolores added, "Been hitting the bottle a little already, boys?"

 

"Oh! No, my fiance…" Stiles bit his lip, trying on his giddiest smile as he 'corrected' himself, "my _husband_ doesn't have much of a head for champagne, and our friends all made toasts at the reception. I just need to get him to bed so he can sleep it off, honestly."

 

"Mmm hmm," Dolores said with a naughty little wink. "I'm sure that's why you're so eager to get him to bed. He's a fine looking one, your young man. Not that I'd have passed _you_ by in my day, either, _Mr. Stilinski._ "

 

Stiles laughed woodenly, his eyes widening as Dolores actually stood from her chair so she could peer down over the counter to take in… everything about him. 

 

"O-okay, well. Uhmm." Stiles swallowed roughly, unsure what exactly to do to move things along a bit without offending the old lady. 

 

And that's when things went a little more… weird. 

 

Derek hooked his arm around Stiles, pulling him into the curve of Derek's body until he could nuzzle against Stiles' neck, his beard wiry enough to scrape deliciously over the sensitive skin but still soft enough make his toes curl.

 

"Gnuh," Stiles half-moaned, feeling how wide his eyes were flaring, and blushing horribly at the way the old woman cackled and slapped a key with a heart shaped fob down onto the counter.

 

"Enjoy your stay, boys," Dolores said with a leer and a wink.

 

\--

 

"What." Stiles looked around the 'honeymoon suite' with something a little like horror clenching in his gut. 

 

The room was spacious enough, but where any other hotel would have a shower/tub combo there was only a heart-shaped jacuzzi tub, instead of an ensuite, there was only a tiny closet for the toilet, and the bed was big enough for two if one of them was a hobbit. A very thin hobbit. One that regularly skipped second breakfast.

 

Blowing out a breath, Stiles ushered Derek into the room and turned around to lock the door behind them. Then he slid the chain on the latch and shoved a chair up under the door handle, tilted up on its legs to buy them time in case they needed it. And then… then he turned to Derek just to see Derek stripping his shirt off over his head.

 

Thankfully, the shirt had been black, hiding the blood and black crap that always followed a wolfsbane bullet, so it hadn't raised Dolores' eyebrows at all -- not that she would have been likely to see anything even on a white shirt. But with the shirt off, Stiles could see the tracks that blood and other fluids had left on Derek's skin. And though Derek didn't seem to be in a ton of pain any longer, it couldn't feel wonderful to have that on him, nor could it be awesome to have the scent of his own putrefaction filling his nose.

 

So Stiles went to the tub and grabbed a hand towel, turning on the taps until the water was hot and dipping the thick, fluffy towel under the flow. Wringing it out, he approached Derek with the damp towel and started bathing him without asking. They'd done this too often in the past for Derek to be body-shy around Stiles anymore. 

 

To be fair, they'd done this with _Stiles_ in Derek's situation enough times for Stiles to have long stopped being body shy around Derek as well.

 

But there was something about the close, intimate feeling of the room, and the soft light flooding through the drapes and the tiny bed and the heart shaped tub and… Stiles drew in a deep breath, steadying himself as he carefully cleaned Derek. When Derek's skin was clear of blood and grime, Stiles sat back on his heels, running a critical gaze over him.

 

"I think that's probably good enough for now. You need about twenty hours of sleep and three cows worth of protein to truly recover, so I'll take first watch."

 

Derek stared down at him through eyes that were nearly puffy with exhaustion, but narrowed his lips stubbornly. "You're tired too. I'll be fine for a while so you can get some sleep. Once I go down…"

 

Stiles glared up at him. "Of the two of us, you're more useful in a situation where we might need to flee quickly. I got us here so you could rest. So rest."

 

"And you're no good if you're dead on your feet and can't think for being too exhausted. So--"

 

"Goddammit, Derek, just lay down and--"

 

"Sleep with me."

 

That shut Stiles up fast, his teeth snapping together audibly. "Dude, the bed is too small for--"

 

"Stiles, you literally just mimed fucking my face. I think I can handle a little cuddling. Now, get in the damn bed before I knock you out and put you there myself."

 

Stiles' eyes flared wide in alarm, even as he felt another blush rising hot and fast in his cheeks. "You… remember that?"

 

"I was hurt, not dead. Of course I remember that." The look Derek shot him was one that Stiles didn't recognize, but made his blush deepen regardless.

 

"I'm, uh, sorry. I couldn't think of--"

 

"It was a good idea. Quick thinking," Derek said gruffly before climbing onto the bed, pulling back the sheets and blanket and flopping down so heavily the headboard bounced off the wall. 

 

Stiles barely stifled a giggle, but pulled his shoes off and made a few quick adjustments to the room that would hopefully wake him if anyone breached his earlier defenses -- the lamp set where anyone opening the door would knock it over with a loud clatter, a squat vase of flowers in front of the window -- before joining Derek on the bed. He lay on his side, holding himself as close to the edge of the bed as possible before Derek heaved a gusty sigh and grabbed him, manhandling him around until he was cradled against Derek's chest, an intensely comfortable little spoon in the fluffy softness of the bed.

 

"Stop thinking so hard," Derek murmured, his voice sounding soft and vulnerable in the darkness of the room. "I've got you. Go to sleep."

 

Stiles reached up, wrapping his hand around the hard muscle of Derek's forearm where it was a bar of solidity against his chest and whispered, "I've got you too."

 

"I know," Derek sighed, snuggling his face down into the back of Stiles' neck, his breath rushing across Stiles' skin until he felt like one giant goosebump. "'S why I can sleep at night."

 

Stiles wriggled backward, pressing himself more firmly into the curve of Derek's body, knowing that they were due for a potentially awkward conversation but feeling utterly content in this moment. "Best honeymoon ever," he whispered into the silent room, barely feeling the fleeting press of lips against the nape of his neck just before sleep overcame him.


End file.
